CHAPTER IX - The Exhibition Building of 1862
From May to the end of October 1862 over
six million visitors came to South Kensington
to view an international exhibition of art
and industry that in the opinion of many who
remembered the exhibition of 1851 excelled that
great exemplar by the scope and interest of its
contents. Not the least remarkable feature in 1862
was the exhibition building itself, a mixed
structure of brick, iron, glass, timber and stone,
covering some 23½ acres, which in its main
aspects, however, presented frontages of unrelieved
brickwork rising sheer from the footpaths
of Exhibition Road, Cromwell Road and Queen's
Gate. The gigantic structure was to disappear
unregretted almost as quickly as it was built—and the rapidity with which it had been raised
was the pride and wonder of contemporaries. (ref. 1) (For
this chapter see plan a between pages 54–5, and
Plates 28c, 30–38, 90a, d.)
That there should be an exhibition in London
in succession to that of 1851 did not, in the late
1850's, require elaborate justification: the recurrence
of exhibitions was part of their raison
d'être, to stimulate progress and to prevent success
at any single exhibition becoming itself an obstacle
to further advance. In 1851 the two poles
of activity had been the Society of Arts and Prince
Albert. Again early in 1858 it was the Society
that took the initiative, and the heavy outlay and
massive construction that were to mark the enterprise
were largely due to an ambition to make the
exhibition a means of providing the Society with
permanent buildings for its own use. Nevertheless,
any widespread desire to renew the sequence of
the 1851 and 1855 exhibitions in London and
Paris seems to have been wanting, and the chairman
of the new exhibition commissioners, Earl
Granville, was later to say that only one man (but
that one a very influential member of the Society)
had really wanted it—Henry Cole. His strong
will had driven it forward. (ref. 2) The Society's initial
policy was certainly close to Cole's ideas, and its
contribution was chiefly embodied in him and its
chairman of 1858–9, C. W. Dilke—both of them
veterans of 1851. The Prince remained a crucial
figure. As President both of the Society and of the
Commissioners for the 1851 Exhibition, whose
estate was dedicated broadly to developing that
exhibition's work, he could shape the new project
decisively. It would not, indeed, have been easy
for him to avoid involvement. But his attitude was
ambiguous and he never became a working member
of the exhibition organization as he had in
1851. Like most observers he understood quite
well that the new enterprise might be a valuable
achievement but could not be expected to repeat
the emotional success of 1851, and it seems that
he shrank from an unflattering comparison.
In March 1858 the Council of the Society
decided to work for an exhibition in 1861. (ref. 3) It was
to be more selective than in 1851, and focused
on recent progress. The arrangement was to be by
classes, not countries—a persistent but 'pious'
hope. The fine arts and music were to be included, (ref. 4)
and in these two respects Cole's ideas
affected the architectural form. He had lately
been scheming for a great chorus-hall, and hoped
that the exhibition buildings might include as
permanencies both that and picture galleries.
The hall especially conditioned the architectural
plans to the eleventh hour. He put his ideas to the
Prince's secretary, Charles Grey, in March, as a
promising project for the Commissioners' Kensington
estate (ref. 5) (perhaps in conjunction with a
show-garden for the Horticultural Society). In
July, the Prince told Cole, Dilke and Richard
Redgrave, at the same meeting at which he accepted
the Horticultural garden idea, that he would
recommend the Commissioners to contribute
£50,000 to a guarantee fund for an exhibition at
South Kensington. (ref. 6) Sponsors of other sites were,
however, in contention, particularly the advocates
of riverside Battersea and the Crystal Palace
Company on behalf of their grounds at Sydenham. (ref. 7)
The Builder preferred South Kensington
(where its editor had interests) and in December
the Society asked the Commissioners not merely
to provide a site but to undertake the management
ment. (ref. 8) The Prince, however, now seems to have
doubted public support, and thought the exhibition
premature. (ref. 9) The Commissioners therefore
gave a disappointing answer in February 1859,
demanding that the Society should show more
evidence of popular interest and of the prospect of
financial backing. (ref. 10) The Society replied that it
would raise a guarantee fund of £250,000. (ref. 11)
Then in April war broke out between France
and Austria. Some thought that 'it was the duty of
the Society, as a body independent of politics, to
enter a protest against war being allowed to interfere
further than is inevitable with Arts, Manufactures,
and Commerce', and that preparations
should continue. (fn. a) But in May the Society abandoned
preparations for 1861, thinking that 'the
public mind was never occupied by two great
subjects at once'. (ref. 13)
Already drawings for the building were being
prepared. (ref. 14) Except as member of the Society's
Council Cole at that stage had no official locus
standi: nevertheless the plans were being made by
the architect of his Department, Captain Fowke
of the Royal Engineers, who was also beginning
to think about the arcades surrounding the Horticultural
Society's garden immediately adjacent to
the proposed site. As in that work, Cole and
Redgrave were his collaborators, (ref. 15) and the pencilled
perspective of an abortive scheme for the
building (ref. 16) doubtless originated from the Department
(Plate 30a).
By November the exhibition was again in
prospect, but deferred to 1862. The site was
settled at South Kensington, south of the Horticultural
Society's garden, and the broad outlines
of the scheme were clearer. The Council of the
Society of Arts proposed to go to a body of trustees
for the management. The building would include
a permanent part that it was hoped would be vested
in the Society and by February 1860 the
proposed form of guarantee included provision for
a third of the outlay on the buildings to be so
employed. (ref. 17)
The nominated trustees were fewer in number
and rather less august than in 1851—Earl Granville,
Lord President of the Council, Liberal
leader of the House of Lords, and an old coworker
with the Prince (and Cole) in 1851; the
Marquis of Chandos (from 1861 Duke of
Buckingham), chairman of the London and
North-Western Railway; Thomas Baring, head
of Baring Brothers; Thomas Fairbairn, chairman
of the great Manchester Art Exhibition of 1857;
and Dilke, a former member of the 1851 executive.
In the spring, when the guarantee fund,
aided by £10,000 from the Prince, had reached
its mark, the Society seems to have suggested, at
Cole's prompting, that the Commissioners should
dedicate the site permanently to decennial exhibitions.
But in May the Commissioners' Finance
Committee rejected the idea. Cole was disgusted
and the Committee, perhaps embarrassed by a
suggestion that it was difficult for them to reject
gracefully, was 'much irritated' by him. Cole prophesied
'endless troubles' from the decision. (ref. 18) In
this he was, broadly, justified, for the outcome was
to be the erection under complicated arrangements
of a partially 'permanent' building at a
cost that a single year's event proved unable to
sustain. Cole tried to bring the Prince's supposed
wish for periodic exhibitions to bear on the
Finance Committee but without effect. (ref. 19) Then in
June 1860 it became known that the nominated
trustees were reluctant to act, as they felt insufficiently
authoritative either to deal with
foreign states or to overcome opposition and
inertia at home. They wanted a royal charter,
but thought the Prince and the Commissioners
the more suitable managing body. (ref. 20) An address
given by Disraeli at the Society of Arts on 22
June, in part drafted for him by Cole and expressing
Cole's views, was designed to increase
public interest, (ref. 21) and a few days later the Commissioners
formally offered the sixteen-acre site,
to be held rent-free to the end of 1862. They made
some provision for periodic exhibitions by undertaking
to reserve the site for 1872, and on their
being paid £10,000 part of the building was to
be held permanently by the Society if £50,000
(no longer, that is, necessarily a third of the whole
cost) was spent upon it. But the area of this part
was to be only one acre and in the following
month the Commissioners refused a request to
enlarge it. Generally the offer represented a less
ardent co-operation than the Prince's talk of a
£50,000 contribution had suggested. (ref. 22)
Another time-consuming attempt by the
Society followed, probably at Cole's instigation,
to ensure periodic exhibitions by expanding the
draft charter to be procured for the 1862 trustees.
This annoyed the Prince, and the late summer
passed with bad relations between the 1851
Commissioners and the Society: the latter, whatever
its maladroitness, had had some reason to
expect more help in its present undertaking. (ref. 23)
Finally in October, after the Prince had talked of
yet another postponement, the Society dropped
the wider aim, and in November the trustees-designate
said they would act if incorporated. (ref. 24)
It was now only about eighteen months before
the exhibition should open, and attention turned
to the urgent matter of the building.
Probably the general expectation would have
been an open competition, as in 1851, or a limited
invitation for designs from the architectural
profession. But when Fowke's plans were produced
in November 1860 the trustees-designate
seem never seriously to have considered obtaining
others. Pressure of time increased the attraction of
a ready-made scheme. As the authorities later
explained, they were afraid of the precedent of
1851, when much time had been wasted on
'competition' and 'official' designs before Paxton's
last-minute suggestion was adopted. (ref. 25) The limit
of expenditure was agreed at £200,000 and if
Cole's memoirs are correct the builder whose
tender was eventually successful, John Kelk,
offered at the beginning of December to do the
work for that sum. (ref. 26) This is not unlikely, as Cole
had already envisaged him as builder of the great
hall. (ref. 27)
(fn. b) A day or two later the Prince saw the
plans and on 13 December Lord Granville told
Cole he considered them 'settled'. (ref. 29) On the 22nd
the engineers William Fairbairn (Thomas's
father) and William Baker (Lord Chandos's
engineer for the London and North-Western
Railway) reported that, 'by great exertions', the
plans could be realized in the time available, but
the cost would be at least £295,000 exclusive of a
temporary annexe, for machinery in motion, that
was to be built northward along Queen's Gate. (ref. 30)
On 5 January 1861 the Prince approved the
plans, under strong urging from Granville, who
had tried to keep him up to the mark with the
news that if London did not house the exhibition
in 1862 Napoleon III proposed to stage it in
France. (ref. 31)
There was, however, some aesthetic disagreement
between the Prince and Fowke. The
chief—and really startling—feature of the design
was an apsidal-ended hall placed behind and parallel
to the main (Cromwell Road) frontage, rather
as in Fowke's Scottish Industrial Museum in
Edinburgh (now the Royal Scottish Museum,
plans 1858 onwards). The London hall was to be
huge. Fairbairn and Baker spoke of its 'gigantic
dimensions', (ref. 32) which were variously described
and delineated as 500 to 600 feet in length, 200
to 300 feet in width, and some 200 to 220 feet in
height. (ref. 33) (Compare the external dimensions of
the Albert Hall of 273 by 241 feet by 143 feet
high.) Its central compartment was to serve as
hall of ceremonies, music auditorium and
miscellaneous amenity, but Fowke calculated
that with its three tiers of galleries it would also
give more exhibition space than alternative
plans. (ref. 34) A drawing in the Victoria and Albert
Museum, perhaps of November or December
1860, shows this internal arrangement. (ref. 35) Another,
in the Public Record Office, representing a
different stage of its evolution, shows an exterior
rising behind but unrelated to a curiously designed
street front (Plate 30b, c). (ref. 36) The Prince
seems to have wanted to make at least this front
more harmonious. Evidently (although not very
intelligibly) he suggested the introduction of
elements of Osborne House, whence Granville
wrote to Cole in January 1861: 'What do you and
Fowke think of the roofs to the small towers in
the Cromwell Road elevation? I thought Fowke
right to object to copying the House here, and
the suburban villas, but on the other hand there
seemed to be something in the Prince's objection
to the two stiles, particularly when backed by a
building which with gothic windows [sic] has a
stile peculiar to itself'. (ref. 37)
The lack of formal qualifications in the cooks
of a broth for public consumption perhaps disquieted
Granville, who sounded Cole a few days
later about getting outside advice. Cole took a
high line on behalf of Fowke, Redgrave and
himself. In the cause of undivided responsibility
he rejected the idea of a building committee, citing
the history of 1851 and the Royal Horticultural
Society's works for the ill effects of multiple
committees, and asserted the Department's
competence: 'I said we would have our professional
status acknowledged or would not act'. (ref. 38)
Granville nevertheless insisted, against Fowke's
wishes, on consulting Paxton, a guarantor of the
exhibition. Paxton gave both Granville and Cole
the impression that he strongly approved of the
plans, Cole noting that he 'would not have a
building like the Crystal Palace'. (ref. 39)
The 1851 Commissioners formally approved
the plans on 21 January (ref. 40) and tenders were
invited from six large contractors, to be submitted
by 9 February. (ref. 41) Then Paxton sent The
Times what Granville called 'an insidious letter
. . . hitting us between wind and water'. (ref. 42) He
attacked not only the expensiveness of the plans
but also the short time and meagre information
given to the competing builders. (ref. 43) In view of the
history of his 1851 design this was rather disingenuous. (ref. 44)
But his hint that some or one of the
builders might have been given a prior idea of
what the work involved was perhaps, despite
denials, not far from the truth. The Building News
ridiculed Paxton, attributing his complaint to
Sydenham jealousy, but The Builder supported
him, and deplored that no advice had been sought
from the architectural profession: 'the transaction
has an aspect of slyness, to say nothing of its doubtful
wisdom'. (ref. 45)
The Daily Telegraph, as a friend of
Sydenham, was less temperate, scenting 'the
fullest flavoured job', and a correspondent complained
to it of plans prepared at South Kensington
behind (he said) jealously closed doors. (ref. 46)
For the time being, however, there was no
general outcry on behalf of the profession. Indeed,
considering the importance of the commission,
it is rather surprising that 'South Kensington'
had been allowed to retain control of the design
with comparatively little outside intrusion. Even
the secretiveness of the exhibition authorities
seems insufficient explanation unless for some
reason the 'programme' itself was not irresistibly
attractive to the architects of 1861.
Paxton's comments were directed against a
project that he thought would cost at least
£250,000. It is uncertain, therefore, whether he
had been allowed to see the plans in their fulness.
For when three tenders were submitted they
ranged not around £250–300,000 but from c.
£610,000 to c. £700,000 (ref. 47) and desperate measures
were necessary. This crisis is difficult to
account for, after the comparatively lengthy
preparation of the plans. At the time of tendering
Fowke had been confident that quantities (and
hence costs) might be surely and rapidly calculated
because of what he called 'the system of repetition
on which the building has been designed'. For
example 'in the nave a single unit is repeated 144
times, the principal feature of the Great Hall 50
times, the Courts 100 times and the machinery
shed 320 times.' (ref. 48) He later said, however, that
(at an unspecified period) the unit of the design
had been increased from 24 to 25 feet, the nave
consequently widened, and the picture galleries
raised to the first floor and made more substantial,
and that this caused the excess of the tendered
prices over the earlier estimates. (ref. 49) Presumably,
therefore, it had taken place after Fairbairn and
Baker's report in December 1860, although no
decision to this effect seems to be recorded. Despite
assertions by Cole and others that the picture
galleries would, if preserved, be used for future
exhibitions (ref. 50) it was widely thought that they were
made so big and solid to serve eventually the
Prince's known wish to bring the National Gallery
to South Kensington. (ref. 51) It was the Prince
himself who was responsible for the extension of
the picture galleries along the east and west
fronts (ref. 52) and it is possible that the elaboration of
the structure, at least in respect of the picture
galleries, was inspired from Osborne.
The tenders were, it seems, not published. The
lowest came from the firms of John Kelk and of
Lucas Brothers, who had submitted a joint tender. (ref. 53)
(fn. c)
After ten days the estimate was reduced
to £300,000, but only by an extensive change to
wooden construction, and, evidently, a reduction
in the hall's dimensions. (ref. 54) Then Fowke himself
proposed, in order 'to secure all the rest', a drastic
revision of the design, eliminating the hall. Granville
agreed that 'a little red Lion does not answer
for a great one', and regretfully that 'the eighth
wonder of the world' should remain unbuilt. (ref. 55) He
thought that Paxton, who had recently suggested
undertaking the work himself in conjunction
with Thomas Brassey, had 'a new plan and contract
to propose'. But he doubted 'that the same
man can play the same game twice in his life with
the same success' (ref. 56) and Fowke, Kelk and Lucas
remained in possession.
Within a day or two Fowke had decided that
the hall's ceremonial function as an assembly
place should be discharged by the octagonal
crossings near the east and west entrances, and
that these should be enhanced architecturally by
replacing their low roofs with two great disastrous
glass domes. The hurriedly revised plans were
adopted by the 1862 Commissioners (newly
constituted by their charter of 14 February) on
23 February 1861, and on 9 March the laying
out of the ground began. (ref. 57)
The need to jettison the preferred design presumably
weakened the position of Cole and his
colleagues, and in April a five-man building
committee was appointed. It consisted of two of
the Commissioners, Lord Chandos (whom Cole
rather unreasonably disparaged as an 'Amateur
Architect' (ref. 58) ) and Thomas Fairbairn, the two
engineers already consulted, William Fairbairn
and William Baker, and Lord Shelburne (later
Marquis of Lansdowne). (ref. 59)
The financial and legal arrangements were
complicated. The site was leased rent-free by the
1851 to the 1862 Commissioners and the latter
were obliged (except in certain eventualities) to
surrender the land cleared, if required, of buildings.
The arrangements with Kelk and Lucas similarly
acknowledged that at least the greater part of the
building might be temporary. The 1862 Commissioners
were absolutely committed only to its
hire for £200,000 plus receipts over £300,000 up
to an additional £100,000. The building could
be bought outright for a further £130,000, making
£430,000 in all. In that event, or if the Society
chose to make good any deficiency, the central acre
(subsequently reduced to three quarters of an acre)
of the south front would be leased to the Society
by the 1851 Commissioners, who for £10,000
paid by the 1862 Commissioners would also
reserve the whole main site for an exhibition in
1872. The disposal of any ultimate surplus was to
rest with the guarantors. Meanwhile the Bank of
England advanced the working capital to the
1862 Commissioners on the security of the
guarantee fund. (ref. 60)
Bowring, the 1851 Commissioners' secretary,
had been emphatic in December 1860 that any
building that might be retained for the Society
should be capable of being 'carved out' of the rest,
which the Commissioners might wish to sweep
away. (ref. 61) It is not, however, easy to discern that
this nucleus was in fact expressed in Fowke's
plans (plan a between pages 54–5).
In mid March the design was made public.
Comments were mixed. It was at once apparent
that the building would have none of the 'fairylike'
character of the 'crystal palace', but it was
acknowledged that the inclusion of would-be
permanent picture galleries had complicated the
problem and that the diversified design gave more
scope for meeting the requirements of a miscellaneous
exhibition. The Illustrated London News
approved of the 'abandonment of glass as the
staple of the building' and thought it 'a courageous
act on the part of the commissioners to repudiate
a novelty in structural arrangement which had
received such eclat'. (ref. 62) The comparison with 1851
remained a damaging one, however: the 'Victorian'
heaviness was not popular. As the edifice
itself appeared feeling swung violently against it,
and the final verdict of The Building News—'one
of the ugliest public buildings that was ever raised
in this country'—expressed the consensus of
opinion. (ref. 63) The crudity and 'monotony' of the
street frontages were much disliked. The east
and west elevations had something reminiscent
of the rejected 'official' design for 1851, but with
an added awkwardness. The polygonal domes—'tumid bubbles, with their . . . green and half
transparent tint of gooseberry'—looked lop-sided
and purists objected to Fowke's duplication of so
centralizing and climactic a feature (Plates 31a, b,
36a, b, 37, 38a). But beyond this, as BeresfordHope
said, 'there was something uncanny about
the whole building, with its permanent and its
non-permanent portions; and its hideousness was
of that genuine stamp which appeals as forcibly
to the instincts of the million as to the science of
the expert'. (ref. 64)
Praise of particular parts of Fowke's building
was not withheld. His north front (which cost the
1851 Commissioners £47,000 as part of the
buildings of the Horticultural Society's garden)
was acceptable (Plates 28c, 31b, 50b), and so,
generally, were his interiors, although the disharmony
of styles was noticed. The misguided
ingenuity that placed dodecagonal domes on
octagonal crossings not designed to receive them
was fiercely denounced, but many admired his
nave and transept roofs and the impressive sequence
of coved and skylit picture galleries. The
vista'd interior of his cheaply built machinery
annexe along Queen's Gate was widely praised
as the best feature of the building (Plates 33b, c, d,
34a, 35a). (ref. 65) But in the total effect of his 23½-acre
complex Fowke failed to solve problems that
would have tested a Wren.
His building was probably not helped by the
recent construction of the surrounding roads some
five feet above ground level. Fowke tried to make
a 'feature' of this by leading visitors up from his
entrances to platforms commanding views down
into the exhibition; but some thought it had a
deflating effect on the building's impact. (ref. 66) At the
same time, the building seemed too near the road
(Plates 37, 38a, 90d). (ref. 67) Particularly compared
with the green setting of 1851 the lack of 'approach'
made it unattractive, and it was this over-building
of the site that caused even Cole to admit,
some years later, that it would never have made a
fine public edifice. (ref. 68)
The defence of the building was mainly based
on its utility, soundness and cheapness. It was
claimed that Fowke had eliminated defects in the
buildings of 1851 and 1855 (when he had served
with the British Commission in Paris), and in
particular had provided a variety of lighting compared
with the pervasive 'glare' of 1851. (ref. 69) In
fact, he overdid this. It was too dark under the
galleries of nave and transepts, but architecturally a
greater fault was the apparent darkness of the
wooden-roofed nave and transepts themselves
after the brightness of the glass-domed octagons
from which they were approached. The external
bareness of the building was explained as a prudent
economy to permit sounder basic construction.
The 'South Kensington' belief in the transforming
efficacy of applied decoration sustained the
argument that an extended series of later adornments,
perhaps financed by the profits of later
exhibitions, would remove the objections to the
exterior. (Cole rather unwisely invoked the
'cathedrals of old' as exemplars of embellishment
over a long period. (ref. 70) ) Schemes for completion of
the building in which the draughtsman of the
Department, John Liddell, participated, were
among the exhibits. (ref. 71) The blank recesses over the
street-front windows were especially detested, and
here Cole was enthusiastic for decoration with
ceramic mosaic pictures. He used the newly
building walls of the South Kensington Museum
in the summer of 1861 for full-size outlines (Plate
10a), (ref. 72) formed a fund-raising committee with
Layard and Lord Salisbury later in the year (ref. 73) and
had designs prepared by Sykes and Townroe of
his Department and by two Royal Academicians,
C. W. Cope and J. C. Hook (Plate 38b). Fullsize
cartoons by the last two were shown in situ
during the exhibition, with some applause. Had
the building survived, more than a score of artists
were expected to contribute. (ref. 74)
(fn. d) Cole said it would
be 'the introduction of a new art into England' (ref. 75)
and as such it was welcomed by The Builder, and
by M. D. Wyatt and Gilbert Scott among architects. (ref. 76)
But not all were convinced: 'one might as
well decorate a huge bloated prize-fighter with
Maltese jewellery . .,' (ref. 77) As for the cheapness of
the building, the authorities claimed that it cost
2d. per cubic foot, but their figures were contested. (ref. 78)
In June the Horticultural Society's garden on
the north side of the exhibition site was opened.
The Prince spoke encouragingly of the exhibition
to the Society of Arts (though in the vocative
case), and praised Fowke: 'Gentlemen, you will
succeed. You are in earnest; and being in earnest
you will succeed. . . . You have got an able
architect, in a young officer of Engineers, who
has, as Lord Granville says, today shown by the
works which have been opened in the Horticultural
Gardens, that he is capable of vast designs, of
novel contrivances, and possessed of great taste.'
(Some versions of the speech omit 'as Lord Granville
says'.) The Prince noticed that 'we already
see to the south, rising as it were by magic, the
commencement of a noble work'. (ref. 79) Many others
marvelled at the rapidity with which the building
progressed—like 'an express train'. (fn. e) Compared
with 1851 more mechanical aids were used, and
the added speed of action thereby given to a still
predominantly manual operation made the work
in some ways more impressive in human terms
than the constructional achievements of earlier or
later generations.
Periodicals dilated on the railway tracks which
spread in all directions over the site and on the
steam-winch, devised by the superintendent of the
ironwork, which lifted materials at signals from
coloured flags. (ref. 81) The same superintendent,
Ashton, devised a much admired travelling scaffold
used for the construction and decoration of the
main roofs (Plate 33a). (ref. 82) The head foreman, S.
Clemence, designed the inner scaffolds of the
domes: each had to bear 120 tons of metal and
was considered 'a triumph in scaffolding' (Plate
32d). (ref. 83)
The domes were, the Commissioners thought,
the largest in diameter ever erected. (ref. 84) They had a
greater diameter than that of St. Peter's, but the
dome of 'the old Halle au Blé' in Paris was said
to have been wider. (ref. 85) In their construction the
spirit in which the work was carried on was
evident to the public. They were subcontracted,
like most of the wrought ironwork, to the Thames
Iron Works and Ship Building Company, but the
main contractors themselves took one of them in
hand when its completion on time seemed doubtful,
and, working by gas-flares at night, produced
a 'race' between the two teams that was publicized
to catch the attention of journalists. The foremen
gave an account of the race in The Builder. (ref. 86)
Periodicals noted that to preserve the unbroken
silhouettes of the hollow iron columns that supported
the domes the joints were made on the
inside and a boy lowered within the columns to
fix them. (ref. 87) Generally, the iron columns were
utilized as rainwater pipes. (ref. 88) In the opinion of The
Civil Engineer and Architect's Journal the iron-work
did not show quite the 'consummate mechanical
skill' of 1851. (ref. 89)
Progress was hastened by prefabrication of
much of the structural woodwork, which was
supplied by Kelk from his yard in Pimlico. (The
other woodwork, such as window casements,
came from the Lucases' works at Lowestoft.) The
plank-ribs of the main roofs were assembled in
four sections, which were joined into two on the
site for hoisting and finally united in position.
Those of the annexes, which Cole thought 'offer
useful suggestions for the cheapest kind of agricultural
buildings', were simply nailed together
flat on templates and raised bodily into position. (ref. 90)
An article in the Society's Journal, Cole-like
in tone, praised Kelk and Lucas's celerity, 'which
English energy and English capital alone could
ensure'. (ref. 91) Another in The Builder of the same
period, January 1862, delighted in the assiduity
of the 'labourers of all nations' in the work. 'With
no shirking anywhere and no driving taskmasters
to be seen, . . . all are for progress; and there is no
coercion'. (ref. 92) An element in this was probably
payment by the hour. Kelk told Cole in March
1861 that 'his firm, Peto, Brassey etc were going
to pay hereafter by the hour [Cole's underlining]
and that the men might work as long as they
liked'. (ref. 93) Cole applauded this in The Cornhill
Magazine in July—it had 'put down the nonsense
of ten hours pay for nine hours work'—and
thought it a specific against strikes. (ref. 94) Nevertheless,
there was a labourers' strike, and according to The
Builder when this was settled in January 1862
'the contractors' conceded an extra 6d. a day. (ref. 95) If
methods of payment varied it was possibly because
of the extensive 'division of labour and subdivision
of contracts' noticed by The Builder. (ref. 92)
(fn. f)
Although progress was rapid Kelk subsequently
grumbled at the trouble given him because
'everyone . . . wanted to be master'. (ref. 101) The
building committee soon made itself unpopular
with him, Cole, and Fowke, and the last had
difficulty persuading it to accept alterations. (ref. 102)
One important change that Fowke did make,
about the time of the committee's appointment,
was to move the intermediate 'towers' of his
Cromwell Road front nearer the extremities of
the faç. (ref. 103)
In June 1861 another alteration to the design
substituted a double for a single row of iron
columns under the picture galleries in the range
along Cromwell Road: Kelk (it seems) had wanted
a change to a double row of 'wooden posts'.
During building, at least, the resultant perspective
of beams and columns was pleasing, although the
modelling and decoration of the members suggested
timber construction rather than iron
(Plate 34c). (ref. 104)
Perhaps inevitably Fowke's individual responsibility
suffered some dilution as the urgent
complex work was taken in hand. In particular,
Kelk and Lucas took charge of the working drawings,and employed the civil engineer, Alfred
Meeson, to prepare them for a fee of 1,000
guineas. (ref. 105) Cole noted attempts by Meeson to
improve the elevations, and his diary entry of 30
July 1861—'Fowke undertook to design a rib
for the Nave, Meason [sic] having failed'—implies
that Meeson had enjoyed extensive powers of
revision. (ref. 106) Kelk told Cole in September that
Fowke's rib-design would be used, and the
structure of the side galleries utilized as abutments. (ref. 107)
The bracing to effect this was designed
by the engineer R. M. Ordish, of Ordish and
Lefevre. (ref. 108) Fowke's own chief draughtsman was
H. Saxon Snell of the Science and Art Department,
at £1 a day. Under him the other chief
draughtsmen, both belonging to the Department,
were J. W. Grover, an engineer, and John Liddell,
an architect. (ref. 109) Grover's obituarist confined his
work on the executed design to the domes. (ref. 110)
Fowke was assisted by two other officers of the
Royal Engineers, Lieutenant E. J. Brooke and
Captain W. C. Phillpotts, who were seconded to
the 1862 Commissioners as Superintendents of
Building. (ref. 111)
Fowke, as advised by the engineer, John
Fowler, and the architect, William Burn, asked
£5,000 for his professional fee in a letter that
Cole says he dictated to Fowke. Granville had
advised him to ask for £3,000 only, and the
Commissioners, though evidently granting the
larger sum, seem to have proposed that Fowke
should allow £2,000 of this to be conditional on
the financial success of the exhibition. Being
already a contributor to the guarantee fund, he
refused. (ref. 112)
The interior decoration of the building gave
much trouble and left Fowke dissatisfied. In
November 1861 he recommended the building
committee to employ a lecturer in ornament at
the Art Training School, Octavius Hudson, who
was said to have gained credit for work in Salisbury,
Ely and Chester cathedrals. Hudson's
'large and simple' scheme, which Fowke thought
sufficiently neutral in tone to enhance both the
building and the exhibits, was tried out in bays
of the nave. (ref. 113) Probably Hudson intended the
iron columns and roof-ribs to be 'a rich salmon
colour' against a pale background that nevertheless
respected the facts of construction. Cole
disliked it, and a scheme of Kelk's mainly in buff
and green, was also tried. So was Fowke's own,
said to employ 'the fashionable "mauve" in the
columns, with the same fast color alternately with
white in the ceiling'. (ref. 114) (Appropriately, mauve
represented a technical innovation, made possible
by the development of coal-tar dyes.) Finding
Fowke in difficulties, at the end of January the
building committee turned to the successful
commercial decorator J. G. Crace. (ref. 115) With
much use of distemper on the rough boards, and
of stencils for linear decoration, he produced in
what the Commissioners called 'an incredibly
short time' a relatively elaborate treatment with
considerable subdivision and variegation of
colour (Plates 33c, 34d, 35a). (ref. 116) Particularly in
the upper parts of the nave and transepts he used
rich colours to balance the brightness of the exhibits
below, which were given a much quieter
background. Deep red and blue ribs against the
warm-grey, scroll-ornamented roof-planking were
set off by black-and-white, bronze-colour, maroon,
green and gold. Under the domes dark maroon
was prominent on the iron columns, and light
blue and vellum-colour were introduced: inscriptions
were also utilized. Large medallions
were painted by the art-school students under R.
Burchett. The glass-roofed courts (Plate 34b)
were much cooler in colour, and their brick walls
a quiet maroon. In the picture galleries, probably
under Redgrave's influence, the batten-lined
walls were papered and coloured sage green, the
cornice vellum-colour with maroon in hollow
mouldings, the pale green cove panelled and
figured, and the cross-walls panelled in maroon as
a background for sculpture (Plates 33b, d).
Crace's performance in a building much concealed
from him by scaffolding was generally
respected, and his colouring under the domes, for
example, found 'extremely grand, harmonious
and rich'. (ref. 117) Compared with Owen Jones's clear
bright colours in 1851 the effect was much more
'mid-Victorian'. Contemporaries were conscious
of the attractions of the earlier scheme and some
had wanted Jones called in again as knowing
'more about colour than all the officials of South
Kensington put together'. (ref. 118) But from 'South
Kensington' it was argued that the colours of the
Crystal Palace had shown off the building better
than its contents and that the much greater areas
of solid roof and walling needed more diversified
handling. (ref. 119) Crace himself thought that his subdivisions,
and especially the counterchanged
colouring of the polygonal ribs of the main roofs,
gave 'softness, richness and glow'. But his non-structural
colouring exasperated Fowke, who
protested that it would 'completely spoil what is
really a good piece of timber work': if built as
coloured the roofs 'could not stand'. He was,
however, overruled. (ref. 120) Fowke himself had the
annexes coloured with warm lavender principals
and stone-yellow planking. (ref. 121)
Stained glass was installed by J. Hartley of
Sunderland in the 'rose' windows at the ends of
the nave (Plate 34d): (ref. 122) some would have liked
more to be used. Fowke had rejected Frederick
Sang's suggestion for colouring his glass domes. (ref. 123)
At the opening it was only in the design of the
picture galleries and in the exhibits themselves
that The Builder detected 'the beneficial influence
of the Department of [Science and] Art'. (ref. 124)
In their official report the 1862 Commissioners
thanked Cole and his Department for their help,
and a fortnight after the opening Granville had
noted that Cole was 'working with his usual
vigour'. (ref. 125) He had been the dominant executive
in 1851 and was now paid £1,500 for his services
helping the secretary and general manager,
F. R. (later Lord) Sandford. (ref. 126) Cole afterwards
said that without his help Sandford would have
failed. (ref. 127) But Granville regretfully observed that
his colleagues were prejudiced against 'Cole and
his staff'. (ref. 128) Cole's employment was kept quiet
and at the opening ceremony he took his place
simply with the Council of the Society of Arts. (ref. 129)
His vehemence was an embarrassment, while
his Some Account of the Buildings . . .for the International
Exhibition, which he produced in September
1861, and everyone wrongly thought
official, provoked rather than mollified critics. A
stormy meeting at the Society of Arts in December,
when Cole lauded Fowke's 'constructive
ability amounting to genius' and disparaged the
works of Sir Charles Barry, as representing the
'professional' architect, had not helped. (ref. 130)
(fn. g)
Perhaps it was reluctance to use Cole's abilities
fully that impaired the management. When the
exhibition opened on I May the arrangements
were 'gloriously incomplete': (ref. 132) some thought
them 'the ne plus ultra of bungling inefficiency'.
Regardless of the crinoline, the Commissioners
had crowded the nave with 'trophies'—towering
card-castles of manufacturers' wares. 'The Groves
of Blarney were order and good taste', wrote
Beresford-Hope, 'in comparison with the conglomeration
of telescopes, organs, lighthouses,
fountains, obelisks, pickles, furs, stuffs, porcelain,
dolls, rocking-horses, alabasters, stearine, and
Lady Godiva, which reduced the nave to a striking
similitude of a traveller's description of Hog-lane,
Canton'. (ref. 133) What Cole's son-in-law called his
'Cromwellian generalship' quickly put that right,
but the planning remained confusing. Foreign
exhibitors had obstructed the arrangement by
classes (the French actually walling-up their large
section to the roof (ref. 134) ). Fowke's ground plan had
been praised for its straightforwardness and
practicality, (ref. 135) but either he failed to visualize
exhibition realities or the management was at
fault, for in use the building tended to 'harass and
weary' the visitor more than the simpler structure
of 1851. Getting through the exhibition was, in
truth, no joke. (fn. h)
(ref. 136)
The size and awkwardness of the building
perhaps contributed to an almost nightmarish
quality in the exhibition. One visitor saw it all
through eyes very different from Cole's. Dostoyevsky
came, and found that 'a feeling of fear
somehow creeps over you ... It is a Biblical
sight, something to do with Babylon, some
prophecy out of the Apocalypse being fulfilled
before your very eyes'. (ref. 137)
Mundanely, the exhibition met a demand from
exhibitors, whose requirements caused the construction,
extra to the contract, of the eastern
annexe, (ref. 138) and attracted good crowds. The show
of modern art and of recent technologies made for
a more interesting display than in 1851. (Cole
mentions the electric telegraph, photography and
'Delia Robbia ware' as symptoms of progress, (ref. 139)
and in July there was a trial of electric light in the
picture galleries. (ref. 140) ) Colonial produce, particularly
from the antipodes, was better represented. (ref. 141)
Most observers thought foreign visitors more
numerous. But over the same period the exhibition
attracted only some 5¼ million visitors compared
with 6 million in 1851 (ref. 142) and the earlier
total was exceeded only by extending the period
of the exhibition. An important cause of the
lack of entire success was the death of the Prince
in December 1861. Apart from the want of his
power to remove difficulties from the Commissioners'
path, the exhibition was dulled by the
Queen's absence. Industrial distress in the north
was also blamed for the smaller number of
excursionists from manufacturing centres than in
1851.
The total receipts were £448,632 and the
expenditure £458,848. (ref. 143) The latter was, of
course, swollen by the heavy outlay on the building,
stated as £233,846, plus the added sums of
£86,833 for the eastern annexe along Exhibition
Road and extra work and fittings, and £4,723
for drawings and models. (ref. 144) The repair of the
three adjacent and 'unadopted' roads was also
expensive: it was found that 'no obligation to
keep them in repair appears to reside in any person
or body of persons' and by arbitration the Lord
Mayor of London laid almost all the cost on the
Commissioners, who paid £13,359. (ref. 145) On the
other hand, they spent only £2,466 on advertisement. (ref. 144)
By the standard of later 'universal exhibitions'
that of 1862 was not a financial failure, or at
least not seriously such. No public funds, of
course, were called upon. Nor was the guarantee
fund, which finally amounted to £451,070. (ref. 146)
This was possible because in September Kelk
and Lucas reduced their outstanding claims, and
Kelk personally met the final deficit of some
£11,000. (ref. 147)
Kelk thus justified Cole's argument in 1861,
when the Commissioners had hankered after a
cheaper builder, that 'Kelk's respectability was
worth the purchase'. A few weeks before his
offer Kelk had told Cole that he had taken the
contract 'to get credit—but did not do so—always
treated as a Tradesman'. Kelk had earlier told
Cole that the Lucases were jealous, 'thinking he
Kelk might get some honour'. (ref. 148) In fact Kelk (like
Thomas Lucas) had many years to wait for his
baronetcy.
With no surplus receipts, the building remained
the contractors' property. The Society of Arts
seem not to have contemplated raising funds to
secure any part for themselves, or the reservation
of the site for 1872, 'and so', as Bowring wrote
unsympathetically, 'disappear from the scene'.
The disposal of the site and buildings remained a
problem. The 1862 Commissioners were obliged
to sell the fabric and, if required, clear the
site for surrender to the 1851 Commissioners.
The latter, burdened by a mortgage, wanted to
sell the site for purposes compatible with their
charter and, if it would help that aim, to retain
the building upon it: if used, for example, for
future exhibitions it would give these a good
prospect of profit. The contractors wanted to sell
the fabric as a building rather than as scrap. (ref. 149)
In December they were thinking of selling it to a
private company for use as 'a vast International
Bazaar', but the 1851 Commissioners would not
agree, and turned to the Government as a purchaser. (ref. 150)
Gladstone, the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, was attracted by the prospect of buying
at the Commissioners' price of £120,000 some
16½ acres worth perhaps £250–280,000, together
with a building, at Kelk and Lucas's price
of £80,000, that might accommodate a Natural
History Museum, a Patent Museum, a National
Portrait Gallery, and possibly Cole's South
Kensington Museum itself removed bodily from
across the road. (ref. 151)
(fn. i) Kelk had a 'palatial' recasting
devised by his associate, the architect John Johnson. (ref. 152)
Cole prodded Fowke into producing a
scheme. First it was something in the manner of
the Duomo in Florence (Cole suggesting 'Mr.
Burgess' to work it out). Then it was a recasting
in the Francois Premier style, which Cole had
approved by the Princesses at Windsor in February
1863 (Plate 38c). (ref. 153) Johnson's and Fowke's
treatments were put on view, (ref. 154) and in May the
Cabinet decided to buy the site and building. (ref. 155)
The ground covered by the annexes was excluded
and also the central part of the northern-most
range (the south side of the Horticultural
Society's garden).
But hostility to the building, and the manner
of its architect's appointment, was very strong.
The Art Journal had been particularly violent
against the building ('the most worthless and the
vilest parody of architecture that it ever has
been our misfortune to look upon', 'a monstrous
outrage upon national forbearance', and so on),
and contrasted it harshly with that 'noble edifice',
the Grosvenor Hotel. (ref. 156)
The Builder thought that
on economical grounds it should be retained (ref. 157) but
The Building News, which at the close of the
exhibition had concurred, was swinging strongly
against it. (ref. 158) And in the House of Commons the
building was becoming, rather irrationally, the
focus of resentment at the growth of Cole's
Department and the proposed application of
public money to institutions at South Kensington.
Grey and his colleague Phipps were nervous of
too bold an avowal of the Queen's wish for the
purchase. Granville was even more so, but to
those guiding the 1851 Commissioners' policy
the purchase now seemed very important, and
individual Commissioners were told of the
Queen's interest, in the hope of a 'leak'. (ref. 159) The
Queen appealed to Lord Derby to bring the
Opposition into line, and he rather grudgingly
agreed. (ref. 160) An appeal by Grey to Disraeli as an
old supporter of the Prince's work won a more
willing compliance in furthering the posthumous
aims of 'our beloved and illustrious chief'. (ref. 161) At
the Opposition's suggestion the vote was split. (ref. 162)
That for the site was taken first and was approved
on 15 June. (ref. 163) (The site was transferred by the
1851 Commissioners to the Office of Works in
September 1864. (ref. 164) )
On 2 July the vote was taken for the purchase
of the building from the contractors. Palmerston
had badly embarrassed supporters of the scheme by
talk of stuccoing the exterior. Lord Elcho reminded
the House that 'an earnest truthful
school was springing up', and there were hasty
disavowals of 'compo' from Cole and Fowke. (ref. 165)
The latter's estimate for the casing of the exterior
in Portland stone was £230,000 or, with the
enrichments in 'silicious stone', £187,000. (ref. 166)
The Government's estimate for the whole cost
of renewal was about £285,000. (ref. 167) In total,
therefore, (including £200,000 for the site and
structure as it stood) some half a million would, as
Cole told Grey, provide a building 'as handsome as
the Hotel de Ville at Paris'. (ref. 168) But meetings were
being held to oppose the purchase at which Beresford-Hope,
James Fergusson and G. E. Street
were of similar mind, (ref. 169) and at the end of June
the (Royal) Institute of British Architects produced
a very unfavourable report. (ref. 170) On the other
side the Government could cite Owen Jones,
Gilbert Scott and Sydney Smirke. (ref. 171)
(fn. j) Gladstone
moved the vote, and blundered badly by revealing,
as an argument for purchase, that there was no
explicit legal obligation on the contractors to
remove the building within a specified time.
Many Members were enraged that the House
had been led to approve the purchase of the site in
ignorance of this possible encumbrance. Lowe,
Disraeli and Northcote were shouted down, and
amidst 'a din quite demoniac' the back-benchers
of both parties united to reject the vote by a large
majority. (ref. 174)
In a dignified reproof to the House for a
scene of unparalleled 'excitement and uproar'
The Builder ridiculed those who had seen in the
purchase 'some dreadful gunpowder-plot intended
to destroy Queen, Lords, and Commons, and
their little ones'. (ref. 175) Replying to the Queen's
expression of annoyance and regret Palmerston
described the back-benchers as 'like an army that
has taken a town by storm; they have broken
loose from all control'. Characteristically, he
identified the core of the opposition as 'artists
and architects who . . . expect that their body
corporate will obtain employment and reap honour
and fame from the erection of the buildings to be
substituted for the present one'. (ref. 176)
The wooden annexes had already been taken
down. (ref. 177)
(fn. k) Overlooking the Horticultural Society's
garden the central refreshment rooms remained in
the ownership of the 1851 Commissioners and
survived, generally in use for the South Kensington
museums, until 1949. The rest was demolished,
rather slowly. The contractors had found a
purchaser of the portable materials (for, it was
said, some £100,000) in the Alexandra Palace
Company, and they were carted away to Muswell
Hill for reconstruction by Meeson and Johnson. (ref. 178)
(fn. l)
To replace the building the Government
held a competition, primarily for a Natural
History Museum. After the complaints on behalf
of the architectural profession there was amusement
that the victor, in May 1864, was Fowke.
Perhaps restored in spirits, he discerned the chance
of 'a little bit of practice for some of the young
officers at Chatham', and during the autumn of
1864 fellow-Sappers blew up the remaining and
obdurate parts of his creation with dynamite. (ref. 179)